


Fëanorion

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Multi-Age, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-28 16:59:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3862549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maedhros' life in a poem...!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fëanorion

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

I am the eldest Son of Fire  
Born with hair alight as flame  
One half my spirit a blazing pyre  
The other half less strong, yet tame.

Expectations Fire laid on me  
To burn as bright, as bright as he  
‘Try son, try, alight aflame!’  
But I could not, you see.

Six more sons borne of the Flame  
One to four, then two the same  
My younger brothers; the Singer, the Fair,  
The Dark, the Crafty, the Red Twins were there.

Seven embers to follow the Fire  
To whatever end. He would swear  
Against the Powers, he called Them ‘Liars!’  
His flaming Oath spread everywhere

To the Swan-haven, to take the Ships   
On we marched, burning bright  
And when the Ships would not surrender-  
Ai, the madness! - Our kin’s hopeless fight.

On we sailed, forsaking our cousins  
On we sailed, blood on our hands  
Burning the Swan-ships, so they could not follow  
Leaving them to ice-wasted lands.

Then came a battle, a terrible night  
When us Kinslayers fought under starlight  
The Morgoth’s armies, such a dreadful blight  
But of no match for our darkened might.

Victory was ours, we cheered ‘Noldor!’  
But my father the Fire would not be tamed  
Now he was searing, rode t’wards Death’s Door  
But crushed, his Fire extinguished and maimed.

We Seven bore his body, ruined by Demon  
Barely over the mountains we mourned  
As our Fire passed to Mandos  
His body by his spirit burned

And then the Crown should’ve passed to me  
But before I could decide  
If I should suffer the burden of King  
I was chained to a cliff by one-handed steel ring

Thangorodrim! Ai, the pain!  
Never had I fathomed such agony  
Hung against gravity, ever pulling me down  
Betrayed by my own tall body

Then came a voice, so fair and sad  
Familiar music to my ears  
The Valiant I begged, begged to release me  
‘Send me to Mandos, end my suffering!’

But Eagle great the Valiant rode  
And with sword bright, smote at the chain  
And when the iron clasp would not falter  
My right hand was severed and replaced the pain

From then on I fought with my left  
And became skilled in doing so  
The Crown I passed to Fingolfin noble  
Hoping family love would again grow

From then on, is history  
Study the scrolls, you will learn  
About Sudden Flame- the Death, the fear!  
Glory and Unnumbered Tears

Two Kinslayings added to our list of shame  
Doriath, ravaged by brothers who fell,  
The Fair, the Dark and the Crafty Little-father  
Departed to Mandos, left legends to tell

The Sack of Sirion, haven so free  
The Elves last hope was attacked my me  
And my last three brothers, Singer and the Twins  
Burying ourselves deeper into Sin.

For three Fire-stars, my father’s Gems  
Was the blood defiled and the Twins broken  
Leaving only Singer and me  
To fulfill the Oath for Powers to see

Last Silmarils recovered, my hand burning pain  
Singer and I escaped to the plains  
Where, purpose completed, I made my choice  
And into a chasm, brother last heard my voice

They called me the Tall, and also Well-shaped  
My name was Third Finwë and Coppertop to my friends  
An Oath-swearer, Kinslayer, one of the Seven  
Of Fire I was born and in Flames I end.


End file.
